


seven hundred and fifty thousand

by kennysspace



Series: almost paradise - part two [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennysspace/pseuds/kennysspace
Summary: almost paradise: part two - chapter one of fifteenyou and steve have grown increasingly close over the past year, but he's got you wrapped around his finger.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Henderson Reader, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Series: almost paradise - part two [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571503
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	seven hundred and fifty thousand

this is being updated to my tumblr. you can find it [here](yelennabelova.tumblr.com)

* * *

The knock on the door doesn’t drag your attention away from the work sprawled out over your desk. It only annoys you - you can’t afford to be distracted right now.

“Dustin!” You shout, throwing the pencil down and leaning back in your chair in an effort to catch his attention as he passes by, “Take care of him, please!”

“It’s six on the dot,” Dustin says as he pops his head in your room, “And you’re not even dressed yet!”

Your brother gestures to your sweatpants before you shoo him away with an offended look on your features, “I already told him I couldn’t go tonight, just _please_ reiterate! Don’t let him in!”

He sighs and moves towards the door, but not before snatching three quarters from atop your nightstand, “Fine. But I’m taking these.”

“Okay, whatever!” You close your eyes in frustration, deciding that you don’t have the patience to deal with his antics at the moment - you’ve been working tirelessly on your college applications all day, and they’re not _nearly_ at the quality you require.

Only a sentence gets written onto the page before you’re being interrupted again.

“How long have you been working on these?” Steve’s voice pulls your focus once again to the door, key ring around his finger. Your chest heaves, exasperated with his stubbornness and you raise your voice - intending your words for your sibling, “What the hell did I say?”

“Like I was gonna be able to stop him,” Dustin mutters bitterly as he continues his search for loose change, his head briefly passing by, “Not sorry, by the way!”

Steve huffs before gesturing behind him to the living room and he grabs your jacket off your bedpost, “No use just sittin’ there. Let’s go-”

“Steve, I already told you, I have to finish these-“

“Nope, come on. You need a break. And you’re not ditching me for college just yet,” Steve grips the back of your chair and pulls you back about two feet, a laugh spilling from you before he throws the coat onto your lap. You go to glare at him, but are only met with his pouted lips and wide pleading eyes.

He sure knows how to get you.

Steve begins to smile brightly as he witnesses your bothered expression crack underneath his gaze, and you shake your head as your own grin spreads, “Damn, Harrington, you’re good. You’ve got me, two hours max.” Immediately after you finish, you bring a finger up to point at him, “ _And_ we’re doing drive-thru!”

“Done deal. I knew you’d come around,” Steve says as he tosses the keys into the air, catching them in his other hand as you get to your feet, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

* * *

It soon became tradition after your friendship blossomed; every Sunday and Wednesday, you and Steve grab burgers and fries, crank up the music, and just _talk_. Those two meetups are guaranteed every week, regardless of your sometimes hectic schedules between your new job and basketball practices. Neither one of you has ever cancelled - not once, hence why he was so insistent.

“I have to give credit when it’s due.” You say, using the back of a thumb to wipe away stray crumbs from your lips, “You were right, I definitely needed this.”

“Wouldn’t hurt for you to _say_ it every once in a while,” Steve mutters after taking another bite. The corners of his mouth turn up as you move to smack his arm, successfully landing a blow before leaning back to your place against the window.

He whines, faking pain that you’ve caused him and you only roll your eyes before you tease, “Oh, please. You’ve taken worse hits than that.”

Steve scoffs at your comment and exposes more food from the wrapper, it crinkling beneath his fingers, “Alright, alright. Just shut up and eat your fries.”

A few seconds pass as you take his offer, the verse of a peppy chart topper floating in the air as you reach for the bag between you both.

His eyes flicker over your face briefly, “I didn’t _actually_ mean shut up, okay? Come on, talk to me!” A laugh bubbles from your throat at his reaction and you shrug a bit, “Then shoot! Ask me something.”

Steve’s brow furrows before he adjusts in the seat, his position matching yours almost perfectly as he tries to come up with a question, “What’s your deal with college? You’re obviously gonna get in, I mean-”

His hand gives a blank gesture as he silently references your practically pristine record, “Why are you so worried about it?”

“I have to get into college, Steve,” You say, shaking your head slightly as you move your focus away from him; the way the streetlight illuminates his face causes your heart to skip.

You clear your throat before continuing, “It’s my only way out of this town.”

“How so?”

“I mean, I’d rather do anything else than get caught working one of those dead end jobs for the rest of my life,” You press the back of your skull into the glass, allowing the heat from the fan to blow onto your cheek as you contemplate how to answer, “And you know, there’s nothing for me here.”

 _But that could change_.

You want to say it, remind him just how much you appreciate the time that you’ve been able to spend together - even if it’s not in the way that you crave.

It happened a few months ago.

Steve had been going on about something simple - last week’s game, you think. You honestly can’t remember what it was. You were too focused on the animated way he was expressing himself and got so caught up in your daydreams about him, that when he flashed that classic grin in your direction, you realized that _you loved him_.

It hasn’t gone away like you hoped it would. In fact, it’s only grown - as has his relationship with Nancy.

Your gaze moves to meet his and there’s a short moment before he looks away, nodding as he processes what you said, “And I can’t blame you. Hawkins really blows sometimes.”

A beat passes before he speaks up again, eyes still not meeting yours, “Even if you leave me with all these assholes, I’ll still miss you when you go.”

“Steve,” You start, shifting so you can lean forward towards him, voice heavy with guilt as the conversation takes a sad turn, “You don’t have to say that. Just-”

You shake your head, heart hammering inside your chest as your mind runs wild with his words. He’s so much more genuine now, something that really reeled you in once you took notice. You know that it matters to him now; the things that he does and says. Nothing he says is on accident.

Your voice softens and drops in volume before repeating yourself. You don’t know how else to put it, “You don’t have to say that.”

His heart breaks a touch at your tone, knowing that in reality, you’re the one who’s been keeping him afloat through the changes he’s made since last fall.

It’s crazy to him, how you’ve both come so far. Neither of you would have even considered that you’d ever be able to become friends, let alone have scheduled meals twice a week. And it’s all just because of the frightening experiences of last November - he wishes that he would have sucked it up and gotten to know you sooner.

“Why not? Who else am I gonna eat cheap fast-food with?” Steve adds, finally dragging his eyes to you and relishing in the small smile on your face, “It’d suck not having you here. You’re like the best friend I’ve ever had.”

And he mentions it so casually but you know the weight behind his words. Tommy and Carol didn’t give a shit about him, they never did. Going from them to you was a massive change of pace, one that he’s so incredibly thankful for. The past year has been fantastic having you by his side.

“Same here,” The gentle smile that graces your features grows as Steve blushes a touch from your admission, heat rising in his cheeks at the acknowledgement of the bond you have with the other. 

It goes quiet again, until the first few piano chords of Queen’s ‘Love of My Life’ comes through the speakers. Steve goes to turn it up, “I love this one,” spilling out as he does so.

You get lost in the lyrics and his humming, biting down on your lip as the words cause your chest to ache. Unconsciously, you relate them back to moments you’ve experienced with Steve - the hurt and pain his love for Nancy causes you.

You’ll never forget that morning in May; the morning after you had fallen asleep on the couch in Mike’s basement. The boys dragged you upstairs and into the kitchen to grab something for breakfast; Will wouldn’t stop mentioning how hungry he was.

“Grab the Trix!” Mike shouted as Dustin snatched the cereal box from the cabinet before him, which lead to you shushing them quickly as you wiped sleep from your eyes, “God, you guys are going to get cavities some day.”

“I’d tell Mom it’s your fault,” Your brother replied and Will’s giggle sounded from behind him. Your jaw dropped at his words as you leaned in a touch, “You wouldn’t.”

Dustin shrugged as he grabbed spoons from the drawer; Lucas balanced five bowls in his arms to your right, “I think he would.”

“Don’t encourage him!” You tried to sound as annoyed with them as you could, but your widening smile gave it away that you were amused. It didn’t last long.

You had just grabbed the milk from the fridge and handed it to Mike when you heard Nancy’s quiet voice - along with Steve’s hushed laughter.

Your heart sank as the couple entered the kitchen, and your eyes caught sight of the way she pushed herself out of his arms. It seemed playful enough, enough for Steve to not catch onto her non-verbal cues. He was distracted by seeing you, anyways.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Steve asked as Dustin opened the door to the basement and the sound of the hinges squeaking bounced off the walls. Dustin silently pretended to gag as he started the descent and Will chuckled as he followed your brother down the steps.

“Oh, I just-” You stutter and your eyes turned to Nancy. You watched as she pulled her hoodie up over her neck as she avoided your gaze - that’s what made your stomach churn.

You cleared your throat as you signaled with your head to Mike, gesturing to the staircase, and he instantly understood your message. He moved to the opening and he finished your thought for you with skipping a beat, “She passed out on the couch last night. She’s lucky we didn’t draw on her - Dustin has a Sharpie in his backpack.”

Mike grabbed onto your sleeve and whisked you away before another word could be said, and you immediately were able to breathe easier as soon as the door was shut.

His focus moved over your blank expression as you exhaled, desperate to find something to raise your spirits a bit. He always just figured that you were lonely, that watching them was just a reminder of it.

If only he knew.

“They’re gross,” He whispered as he adjusted the glass bottle in his grip.

You nodded once as you ran your fingers anxiously through your hair - your appetite had completely diminished at that point. As if the differences between you and Steve weren’t clear enough already, you both spend your time with the Wheeler’s very differently.

You don’t want to think about it too much. That always makes it worse.

“Yeah,” You muttered as you moved down a step, “Gross.”

“Hey,” Steve’s foot nudges against your leg and you snap your attention back to him, “Everything good over there?”

“Totally,” You reply as you shove the hurtful memory aside at the concern in his tone. His eyes squint slightly as he studies the way you shift under his gaze and tuck your legs over the armrest.

“You sure?”

“It’s nothing, just thinking.”

Steve rolls his eyes and he smirks before continuing, “You know that’s dangerous, right?” 

Your forehead creases before you straighten up, baffled by his response. It brings a grin to his lips, “Hey! That’s my line!”

“Well it’s mine now too,” Steve settles back into his seat before bunching up the wrapper and tossing it into the now empty bag. You shake your head as you sigh, secretly loving that he’s taken something from you and made it his, and not just your heart.

* * *

“What time are you coming to Tina’s tomorrow?” Steve asks as you wander through the school halls between classes. Your brow furrows as your head turns to glance at him, “What’s happening at Tina’s?”

Steve scoffs as you turn a corner, your eyes twinkling as you focus your gaze on him, “The biggest party of the year, duh. Halloween bash, costumes and everything - you’re coming for sure. You’ve definitely got plenty of nerdy shit you could wear.”

And it’s your turn to huff, your hair moving as you shake your head and attempt to ignore his dig at your interests. You’ve suddenly become hyper aware of the orange flyers that are clutched by your classmates, heart sinking at the realization that you haven’t been offered one, “I wasn’t even invited Steve. Nobody wants me there.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he shoves your side lightly, “I do.”

You bring your attention back to him and the genuine expression he has makes your jaw drop a touch. You try not to let yourself get caught up too much in his words - you know they don’t mean what you want them to.

He smiles slightly as a light laugh comes from your lips, your throat burning as you try to force the emotions away and deflect, “I can’t anyways. I promised Dustin I’d go trick-or-treating with him.”

Steve groans in annoyance; you can practically hear him rolling his eyes. You lean into him a bit before continuing, “If I didn’t spend so much time with _you_ , maybe I wouldn’t have to.”

“Please, those kids are the ones stealing you from me. And all your college applications,” He teases back, relishing in the way you giggle beside him, “Come on, you gotta go. Let loose, have some fun-”

“I have fun!” You retort and Steve only playfully glares your way, “Spending hours at the arcade or trapped in Mike’s basement with those morons doesn’t count.”

“Just-” He grabs your arm and pulls you to a halt right in the middle of the hall. Your body tenses at the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your bicep; a shaky exhale leaving your lungs. Steve sighs, “I just want you to come. I want you to enjoy yourself, that’s all.” 

Other students brush against your back as they pass by and you look at him with wide eyes; heart hammering inside your chest as Steve’s touch begins to overwhelm you. It’s unfair how much he influences you - how the idea of disappointing him leaves an ache, a hole inside your soul.

You never wish to do any harm to him, even something as simple as saying ‘no’ to some stupid Halloween party makes you feel guilt. You’re his only friend; you’ve decided that Nancy doesn’t count.

“Okay,” Your voice is quiet as you affirm, your features softening as Steve’s brighten, “Yeah, I’ll come.” The image of his wide smile is infinitely greater than the grief you’ll get from your brother. You’re sure you can figure something out with him.

The joyous feeling that exudes from the pair of you ends abruptly; Steve caught sight of Nancy. He doesn’t look back to you before sneaking up behind her, holding her from behind as he lifts her into the air. Their laughter and his love-filled expression send a reminder through your brain and a searing pain through your chest - you’re a fool to think that could ever be you, that he’d ever want it to be you.

Your focus meets Jonathan’s as you approach him, and you’d recognize the emotion behind his eyes anywhere; it’s the same one you’ve had for the past year.

The textbook you were clutching against your chest gets adjusted as you follow Jonathan past Nancy’s locker, his hand tightens around the bag slung over his back. You swallow the lump in your throat as you turn to glance back to them, and you wish you hadn’t. Steve’s attention is completely drawn to her as she slides a binder onto the shelf, causing you to clench your jaw as your sight goes green.

Nancy’s head rotates to the side just in time to catch your jealous eyes before you move them away. You disappear into a classroom before she can think anything else of it.

* * *

You groan in frustration as you watch the broken piece of your Walkman disappear back into the device; it slipped from your grip when you attempted to re-adjust for better precision.

“Dammit!” You grumble a bit louder than intended after trying and failing once more; you’re lucky the store’s completely empty, all except for your co-worker.

“Need a hand?” Bob’s voice reaches your ears as he comes behind the counter. You sigh as he approaches before you gesture to where the damaged cassette player resides beside the register, “Yeah, I can’t reach a piece that came loose.” 

“Let me grab something that might help,” He says to you before disappearing into the back room. 

You and Dustin had been sent out by your mother for some errands when he spotted the hiring sign in the Radio Shack window. He practically forced you inside to get an application before you were even able to respond.

“Come on,” He said as he pushed your back with both hands, the soles of your shoes scraping against the sidewalk, “You have to apply!”

“Dustin, we’re supposed to be going to the deli! And besides, I already have a job!”

“Yeah but this is perfect for you! What, you wanna deliver pizzas for another year? They gotta get some real nerds working in there anyways.”

You laughed before you grabbed the handle, “Alright, fine. I’ll do it, now would you stop pushing me?” You didn’t know that you’d be offered the job before you two left the building.

“Are you excited for Halloween, Y/N?” Bob asks as he reappears, clutching a miniature pair of pliers in his hand. He passes them to you as you hum, “Oh for sure, I love dressing up. Are you going to be spending the holiday with Joyce?”

Bob smiles widely as you begin to focus once again on your project, only catching his expression out of the corner of your eye, “Yeah, I will. But I think I might’ve gotten too much candy, I don’t know how many kids come through.”

“How many bags did you get?”

Bob pauses. His hesitation draws your attention back to where he stands; a bashful expression on his face, “Six.”

A laugh gets emitted from your throat at his answer, playfully scoffing before you respond, “Give it all to the boys, they’ll have it finished within the hour.”

* * *

The kitchen counter is littered with various bowls, some of them filled with cookie batter and the others with brightly dyed icing. Dustin’s on decorating duty - he had called dibs before you got home.

“Oh my God, Y/N-” Your brother abruptly speaks as he sets down the small container of sprinkles, “Someone beat our Dig Dug high score!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask as your mother hands a pumpkin cookie cutter to you, “There’s no way, we spent months working on that.”

“Wanna guess how many the new girl got?”

“I don’t know, what?”

Dustin leans against the island, wide eyes peering into yours as he pauses for effect, “Over seven hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaim, the feeling of surprise stops you from punching holiday shapes in the dough rolled out, “That’s amazing! She better give us some tips!”

“I know!” He shouts back, palms slamming onto the counter, causing your mom to jump in surprise, nearly dropping the rolling pin on her feet. It still scares the shit out of her cat - who’s been trying to grab a morsel of batter since they jumped up and weaved through your workspace.

She sends Dustin a glare; he apologetically smiles, “Anyways, Lucas and I are gonna ask her to come trick-or-treating with us.”

Your face contorts in confusion, looking back up to him with a brow raised, “Mike’s okay with this?”

Dustin rolls his eyes, grabbing another cooled cookie from the baking sheet to ice, “The world doesn’t revolve around him. And Will wants her to come too, so he’s outvoted.”

At the mention of tomorrow night’s frightful festivities, you’re reminded of the conversation that you had with Steve this morning - and how your plans have changed.

“Speaking of tomorrow night…” The way your voice trails off catches Dustin’s attention, his face dropping at what you imply.

“God dammit, _you’re abandoning me?_ ” He questions rather loudly, gesturing with a spoon covered in bright orange icing in your direction, “What the hell for?”

“Someone’s having a party,” You respond, shrugging as you look down, “Steve wants me to go.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, scoffing as he turns to your mother, “Can you believe this shit? Harrington’s taking her from me! It’s like a crime or something!”

“Well, I think it’s nice,” Your mom says as she glances between you both. She steps closer to you, nudging your arm with her elbow before she speaks, “I think Steve’s pretty nice too.”

“ _Mom!_ ” You and Dustin exclaim in unison; you with embarrassment, Dustin with disgust. Instantly, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks and she wraps her arm around your middle, pulling you in for a side hug, “I’m just playing, baby.”

“We’re-”

“ _Just friends_ , I know,” She interrupts just as the baking timer dings, and winks at Dustin before pulling on the pair of oven mitts, “There’s something else there, I’m callin’ it.”

A nervous laugh spills from your lips. Thankfully, neither one of them notice.

“Why would you say such a thing?” Your brother shudders at the very notion, his disapproval of the pairing written all over his expression, “God, I don’t even want to imagine it.”

“You’ve barely even spoken to him!” You defend. Your stance has you leaning into your hip as he continues, “And I don’t have to! I’ve heard the stories!”

“Those are _just_ rumors, Dustin,” You stress the words as your eyes flick up to look his way, “Half of those aren’t even true, okay? I would know, _alright_?”

“Whatever,” He finally gives up, slumping back onto his stool as he finishes his decorations - thoroughly depressed that you’re no longer joining him in the yearly tradition, “This means you don’t get any of my candy.”


End file.
